Wednesday, November 28, 2012
helpless...
Exhale.
What a few days it's been. I'm exhausted. Ragged. Helpless. Surviving.
It'll be okay. He'll be okay. It's just what it is right now.
Maybe I shouldn't type now while I'm at a low, but y'all know me. That's when I feel like I need to write.
What's so wonderful about having a newborn in your home is all the joy he/she brings. Marc and I have been so UNBELIEVABLY happy this past week since adopting Jameson, and we love this little boy as if he came out of my tummy. Caroline announces to every cash register worker at the grocery store, "We have a new baby!" and I totally understand why-- the excitement and joy Jameson has brought to our family is worth screaming from the mountaintops!
But the flip side of loving this precious baby is the pain of watching him suffer, and the feeling of helplessness is downright torturous to any loving mama.
After last week's diagnosis and treatment of croup, Jameson's breathing settled down and things were looking up, except for the fact that both of his eyes have been constantly oozing with yellowish pus. (I know. Gross. Sorry.) Our pediatrician originally thought that it was because his tear ducts had not yet opened up, so we were massaging them all week in hopes of helping the gunk in his eyes go away. But in the past few days, we noticed much more struggle with breathing after feedings, to the point that it was too scary to ignore.
So we made the 4am pilgrimage to the emergency room, (every parent knows what that's like) where they ran tests and took another chest xray. We also followed up the same day with his pediatrician, and found he has a double ear infection in addition to the croup stuff.
Sigh. I know this is typical parenthood, but it's sad.
Thankfully, my heart was relieved when Marc snapped this picture from the emergency room and emailed it to me. (I had to stay home with Caroline until I dropped her off at preschool in the morning.)
It was the first picture we've caught of Jameson smiling.
From the ER, of all places.
But to an anxious mama in the middle of the night, this picture warmed my soul as if he was saying, "It's okay, Mom. You've got me right where I'm supposed to be. And I'm gonna be A-okay."
I still can't stop staring at it.
There's just something SO not right about this picture.
But then again, there's something so amazing about it, too. As I look at Marc's hands gently pressing Jameson snugly against him, I weep that the Lord saw fit to place this little boy into our family. He knew Jameson would need some help in his first weeks of life. Perhaps help that his birthfamily would not have been able to get him.
This picture reminds me (yet again) of the love MY heavenly Father has for me in my own weakness.
Taking me into His arms. Sustaining me with each breath, even when I am small and frail. (Jameson loves steam treatments.)
And so we are waiting, watching and praying.
Up around the clock.
Hoping to see the medication bring relief to his fragile little body.
Jameson, we love you.
And you better believe this little family of ours is going to fight for YOU!
What a few days it's been. I'm exhausted. Ragged. Helpless. Surviving.
It'll be okay. He'll be okay. It's just what it is right now.
Maybe I shouldn't type now while I'm at a low, but y'all know me. That's when I feel like I need to write.
What's so wonderful about having a newborn in your home is all the joy he/she brings. Marc and I have been so UNBELIEVABLY happy this past week since adopting Jameson, and we love this little boy as if he came out of my tummy. Caroline announces to every cash register worker at the grocery store, "We have a new baby!" and I totally understand why-- the excitement and joy Jameson has brought to our family is worth screaming from the mountaintops!
But the flip side of loving this precious baby is the pain of watching him suffer, and the feeling of helplessness is downright torturous to any loving mama.
After last week's diagnosis and treatment of croup, Jameson's breathing settled down and things were looking up, except for the fact that both of his eyes have been constantly oozing with yellowish pus. (I know. Gross. Sorry.) Our pediatrician originally thought that it was because his tear ducts had not yet opened up, so we were massaging them all week in hopes of helping the gunk in his eyes go away. But in the past few days, we noticed much more struggle with breathing after feedings, to the point that it was too scary to ignore.
So we made the 4am pilgrimage to the emergency room, (every parent knows what that's like) where they ran tests and took another chest xray. We also followed up the same day with his pediatrician, and found he has a double ear infection in addition to the croup stuff.
Sigh. I know this is typical parenthood, but it's sad.
Thankfully, my heart was relieved when Marc snapped this picture from the emergency room and emailed it to me. (I had to stay home with Caroline until I dropped her off at preschool in the morning.)
It was the first picture we've caught of Jameson smiling.
From the ER, of all places.
But to an anxious mama in the middle of the night, this picture warmed my soul as if he was saying, "It's okay, Mom. You've got me right where I'm supposed to be. And I'm gonna be A-okay."
I still can't stop staring at it.
There's just something SO not right about this picture.
But then again, there's something so amazing about it, too. As I look at Marc's hands gently pressing Jameson snugly against him, I weep that the Lord saw fit to place this little boy into our family. He knew Jameson would need some help in his first weeks of life. Perhaps help that his birthfamily would not have been able to get him.
This picture reminds me (yet again) of the love MY heavenly Father has for me in my own weakness.
Taking me into His arms. Sustaining me with each breath, even when I am small and frail. (Jameson loves steam treatments.)
And so we are waiting, watching and praying.
Up around the clock.
Hoping to see the medication bring relief to his fragile little body.
Jameson, we love you.
And you better believe this little family of ours is going to fight for YOU!
Monday, November 26, 2012
james john...
There is another someone special in our family you simply must meet.
He was given to Caroline by her aunt Sharon and cousin Laura the night before baby Jameson came to our family.
Here he is.
Caroline affectionately named this, her baby, "James John."
James John, as you can see, has a striking resemblance (and size) to Jameson.
So while Mommy and Daddy fuss over baby Jameson, Caroline has her own baby to fuss over. It works quite nicely. Plus, baby Jameson doesn't only need to see white faces around this house, does he? :)
James John taking his turn in the swing.
Jameson taking his turn in the swing.
It creeped Mommy out when she saw this one, because from her peripheral vision, Mommy thought it was Jameson in the bouncy! ha ha!
But no. This is the real deal.
He was given to Caroline by her aunt Sharon and cousin Laura the night before baby Jameson came to our family.
Here he is.
Caroline affectionately named this, her baby, "James John."
James John, as you can see, has a striking resemblance (and size) to Jameson.
So while Mommy and Daddy fuss over baby Jameson, Caroline has her own baby to fuss over. It works quite nicely. Plus, baby Jameson doesn't only need to see white faces around this house, does he? :)
James John taking his turn in the swing.
Jameson taking his turn in the swing.
It creeped Mommy out when she saw this one, because from her peripheral vision, Mommy thought it was Jameson in the bouncy! ha ha!
But no. This is the real deal.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
airing of grievances...
Okay, Mom and Dad.
I, Jameson, have been with you guys for one week now, and I've got some bones to pick with you people.
First of all, please let it be known that I do NOT like being cold, okay?
I don't want to be changed or stripped down in any way, shape, or fashion.
Like at my first bath. YOU thought it would be nice and peaceful. Huh.
But I caused quite the ruckus to get the point across, and you people still didn't get it. What is WRONG with you?!
I mean, why can't you do it like Nanny did? I didn't have quite the problems I did with you all.
But I guess you made up for it some when you wrapped me up in that warm, comfy towel. Mmmmm....
And now that I think about it, maybe you guys aren't all that bad afterall.
I mean, there are some things worth mentioning that I'm really liking....
Like our evening family time where I snuggle with my sister and Mommy and Daddy read and sing and pray together.
Yeah, I guess I'm pretty content then.
And speaking of my sis, she's pretty great to me.
I love having her around.
She and I are going to be good buds, I have a feeling.
I guess I'm kinda liking all the excitement I'm creating around this house, too.
And I suppose times like this make up for all those darn diaper changes.
Yeah, okay. So maybe I've been a little hard on you guys this week.
Because if I'm being honest, I'd say this is the life.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
meet the fam...
Thanksgiving.
A day of family.
A day of wrestling in the backyard.
And this year, Jameson, it was a day to meet your South Carolina extended family. They were all so, SO eager and excited to meet you! (and you did great traveling in the car!)
Jameson, meet your Papa.
And your cousin, Follin.
And your five cousins! They were especially excited to meet you, little one!
Everyone can't believe how tiny you are!
Aunt Cammie didn't want to let you go.
She was ready to take you home with her! :)
Jameson, everyone in the family thinks you look like your handsome cousin, Julius.
Sweet Jasmine loves you already.
We all couldn't stop staring at you. I know I am in love.
And of course, this gal still can't get enough of you. :)
This family is crazy about you, sweet boy.
You have no idea...
A day of family.
A day of wrestling in the backyard.
And this year, Jameson, it was a day to meet your South Carolina extended family. They were all so, SO eager and excited to meet you! (and you did great traveling in the car!)
Jameson, meet your Papa.
And your cousin, Follin.
And your five cousins! They were especially excited to meet you, little one!
Everyone can't believe how tiny you are!
Aunt Cammie didn't want to let you go.
She was ready to take you home with her! :)
Jameson, everyone in the family thinks you look like your handsome cousin, Julius.
Sweet Jasmine loves you already.
We all couldn't stop staring at you. I know I am in love.
And of course, this gal still can't get enough of you. :)
This family is crazy about you, sweet boy.
You have no idea...
giving thanks...
Father,
For the new life you have entrusted to me,
I give you thanks.
I never could have imagined
what a gift You would give to us.
He, like us all, is so weak and so frail.
Just six pounds and dependent for everything.
He is thankful for little that comes his way,
but the full feeling in his tummy
and the warmth of a cuddle.
He, like us all, is content and calm
Until the moment his body
tells him You can't be trusted.
That he must scream to receive.
(Isn't that how I act sometimes?
That I must scream to receive?)
As I quietly wash him, or dress him, or change him,
His ears do not stop to hear the reassuring "shushes"
They do not yet listen to the melody of my song
in that moment.
All he knows is fear
All he craves is self-protection
And yet he has no idea the extent of love
pouring out upon him
Or the plan that
has been laid out before him
through adoption.
And all the while,
You, God, hear our feeble cries
Often they drown out the melody of Your song
We demand our own self-protection
And question what You are doing with us
Yet you lovingly tend to us,
amidst our cries,
In ways that we cannot understand.
If only we could stop our own complaining
and listen and trust Your hand.
As that tiny face turns red with misguided newborn fury,
I seek to reassure his cries.
I want him to know my hands
will always and forever
mean certainty.
And security.
He is slowly learning.
But it will take time.
He does not know me.
And I do not know him well.
But as those little beady eyes
Stare at me from the other end of the bottle,
I look into them so intently and fiercely
with all the love
I hold in my heart.
Though we were strangers last week,
today we are family.
Though he was once a far off dream,
today he is
MINE.
When will my heart completely trust Your hand, Lord?
You have brought me so close
And called me Your own.
Adoption is not just his story.
It is mine, too.
At some moment, he will quieten.
He will give it up and calm down.
Even when all is noisy and chaotic around him.
His eyes will close
And his tiny little breaths
find a peaceful rhythm
As he rests content in my arms.
I catch the faintest glimmer of a smile
And then it is gone.
But all is well.
And all is at peace.
It is this day of Thanksgiving
that my soul is in peaceful rhythm
Resting in the arms of
my Father's goodness to me
afterall.
In the cries of my newborn,
I see my own unbelieving heart.
I fought, and cried, and screamed, and kicked.
And yet You never withdrew Your loving care for me.
Today I see the glimmer of Your glory, O God.
The unfolding of a plan so wondrous
That my infant mind could have never conceived.
And I can do nothing else
than to rest all of my fears,
close my eyes,
and find my contentment
in You alone.
And give thanks.
For You are good.
Amen
For the new life you have entrusted to me,
I give you thanks.
I never could have imagined
what a gift You would give to us.
He, like us all, is so weak and so frail.
Just six pounds and dependent for everything.
He is thankful for little that comes his way,
but the full feeling in his tummy
and the warmth of a cuddle.
He, like us all, is content and calm
Until the moment his body
tells him You can't be trusted.
That he must scream to receive.
(Isn't that how I act sometimes?
That I must scream to receive?)
As I quietly wash him, or dress him, or change him,
His ears do not stop to hear the reassuring "shushes"
They do not yet listen to the melody of my song
in that moment.
All he knows is fear
All he craves is self-protection
And yet he has no idea the extent of love
pouring out upon him
Or the plan that
has been laid out before him
through adoption.
And all the while,
You, God, hear our feeble cries
Often they drown out the melody of Your song
We demand our own self-protection
And question what You are doing with us
Yet you lovingly tend to us,
amidst our cries,
In ways that we cannot understand.
If only we could stop our own complaining
and listen and trust Your hand.
As that tiny face turns red with misguided newborn fury,
I seek to reassure his cries.
I want him to know my hands
will always and forever
mean certainty.
And security.
He is slowly learning.
But it will take time.
He does not know me.
And I do not know him well.
But as those little beady eyes
Stare at me from the other end of the bottle,
I look into them so intently and fiercely
with all the love
I hold in my heart.
Though we were strangers last week,
today we are family.
Though he was once a far off dream,
today he is
MINE.
When will my heart completely trust Your hand, Lord?
You have brought me so close
And called me Your own.
Adoption is not just his story.
It is mine, too.
At some moment, he will quieten.
He will give it up and calm down.
Even when all is noisy and chaotic around him.
His eyes will close
And his tiny little breaths
find a peaceful rhythm
As he rests content in my arms.
I catch the faintest glimmer of a smile
And then it is gone.
But all is well.
And all is at peace.
It is this day of Thanksgiving
that my soul is in peaceful rhythm
Resting in the arms of
my Father's goodness to me
afterall.
In the cries of my newborn,
I see my own unbelieving heart.
I fought, and cried, and screamed, and kicked.
And yet You never withdrew Your loving care for me.
Today I see the glimmer of Your glory, O God.
The unfolding of a plan so wondrous
That my infant mind could have never conceived.
And I can do nothing else
than to rest all of my fears,
close my eyes,
and find my contentment
in You alone.
And give thanks.
For You are good.
Amen
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
coming home...
I know, I know. Sleep when the baby sleeps.
But I can't help myself.
So you get to see more pictures.
So there.
Jameson buckled up to come home.
Saying goodbye to his foster mommy who cared for him all last week.
Big sis taking good, good care of her little bro.
Walking in the house.
He's home!
A very proud Aunt Sharon.
This has pretty much been the scenerio for the past 24 hours. Precious.
Throughout the afternoon yesterday we noticed Jameson's breathing becoming labored with congestion, especially when he ate, so we got him into the doc right away. After some x-rays and a test for RSV, the doctor said he was the youngest case of the croup he had ever seen! (of course, right? Our family and normal? No way.) And he's not even old enough to cough! So the poor little guy got a shot and a heavy duty breathing treatment and then things have been good to go since then.
So the humidifier is running and he's sleeping, eating, and breathing much more soundly now...
But I can't help myself.
So you get to see more pictures.
So there.
Jameson buckled up to come home.
Saying goodbye to his foster mommy who cared for him all last week.
Big sis taking good, good care of her little bro.
Walking in the house.
He's home!
 |
| Cousin Laura has the magic touch with him. |
A very proud Aunt Sharon.
This has pretty much been the scenerio for the past 24 hours. Precious.
 |
| Jameson, meet your cousin, Callie. |
 |
| Pondering what Nanny's saying. |
Throughout the afternoon yesterday we noticed Jameson's breathing becoming labored with congestion, especially when he ate, so we got him into the doc right away. After some x-rays and a test for RSV, the doctor said he was the youngest case of the croup he had ever seen! (of course, right? Our family and normal? No way.) And he's not even old enough to cough! So the poor little guy got a shot and a heavy duty breathing treatment and then things have been good to go since then.
So the humidifier is running and he's sleeping, eating, and breathing much more soundly now...
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